


Just A Tool in the Arsenal

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Arguing, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Gen, Secrets, Vendettas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophie confronts Nate with the truth of what happened in the warehouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Tool in the Arsenal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=angst_bingo)[](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=angst_bingo)**angst_bingo** , for the prompt "unexpected consequences".
> 
> Spoilers for The Big Bang Job

  
_Be careful what you wish for._

Sophie blew out a quiet breath, drumming her fingers against the polished surface of the desk. It had taken much longer on her own than if she’d recruited one of the others for help, but she finally had her answer. She knew why things were coming apart between Nate and Eliot, and why Nate seemed to prefer taking them all down instead of facing what had happened and what it meant.

“Not that Eliot’s much better in this,” she muttered, chewing on her lower lip and trying to figure out what her next move should be. _Forty people gunned down in a warehouse in Washington DC._ It defied all logic and reason, especially if she tried to work the scenario so that Eliot was the only one with a gun on their side. It wasn’t impossible to think that Nate had also been armed – she still carried a scar across her left buttock as a testament to his marksmanship – but Eliot wouldn’t have allowed him to put himself in too much danger.

No, it made more sense that Eliot would have done what he could to cover a ‘strategic retreat’. Which still brought her back to the scenario of forty people with bullets in them.

Put there by Eliot Spencer.

“You look worried.”

Sophie flinched; hand going to her chest. She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t heard Nate come in. “I am,” she admitted, when she could breathe again. Her first impulse had been to laugh off her reaction and try to pretend nothing was going on until she could figure out what to do with her newly acquired knowledge, but that would have made her no better than the men.

Looking genuinely interested, Nate stripped off his coat and grabbed a chair near where she was sitting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I want to know how you and Eliot covered it up,” she said, looking directly into his eyes. “You didn’t use Hardison – he couldn’t keep something like this quiet.”

Years of learning how to read Nate served her well in the next half-dozen moments. He knew immediately what she was referring to - _sure sign of a guilty conscience_ \- but he passed on his initial impulse to pretend that he didn’t. She saw him tense momentarily, as if he was going for a defensive response, but that too was ultimately abandoned in favor of a handful of simple declarations. “Eliot took care of it. I assume he used some of his contacts. I didn’t ask.”

Sophie leaned forward slightly. “You know, when you said Eliot might have to become the man he used to be, I didn’t think you’d let it go this far.”

She saw the guilt in his eyes when her words hit home. His remorse – even unspoken – was the only thing that allowed her to keep her own anger in check. _You didn’t think. You were playing God again, and not worrying what it could do to the people around you._ “ _Forty_ people, Nate. In one confrontation. How long did it take? An hour? Half?”

Stubbornness and Irish pride kept his eyes firmly locked with hers, and his voice terrifyingly steady. “Twenty minutes, give or take.”

The magnitude of the deed flashed through her mind in a heartbeat, bringing tears to her eyes. “Twenty…my God, Nate!” Her control finally slipped, and she was too horrified by what he’d said to try and get it back. “Forty people in twenty minutes? Nate, I don’t care _what_ Eliot did before – no one walks away from something like that undamaged.”

“Don’t you dare put it all on me,” he snapped, coming half out of his chair. “It was _his_ decision to pick up the guns, _not_ mine. _He_ decided that killing Moreau’s men was the best way to keep us safe.” He swallowed, and she saw the cracks in his own anger. “I had to trust him, Sophie. I had to listen when he said he didn’t want to talk about it…”

Sophie got to her feet as well. “That’s bollocks, and you know it. It was a bad call, and you let him stick to it because it let you off the hook.”

She thought she’d seen Nate as bad as he could get, but there was something very dark and very primal rising up behind his eyes. “Sophie,” he said – his voice suddenly very slow and careful, “I really need you to shut up now.”

“And I need you to admit that a part of you likes the idea that you’re the boss in this town with the most ruthless pit bull on his leash.” She took a step back, putting the chair she’d been sitting in between them. “This isn’t who we are, Nate. This isn’t who _you_ are.”

His hands were clenched into tight fists, and she wondered for a moment if she’d gone too far. His gaze was turned inward, however; instead of seeing her, he’d caught a glimpse of the man he was becoming. The monster that lurked in his heart – just out of view.

“You’re not him,” she said softly – her heart breaking when he flinched at the sound of her voice. “And Eliot is not a tool in your arsenal to strike at your enemies.” He shuddered; his chest rising and falling more rapidly than it should have been as he processed what she was saying – although Sophie was grateful to see his fists starting to unclench.

“We need to deal with this,” she said finally. “Otherwise everything that happened means nothing.”


End file.
